


Sunlight in Winter

by devylish



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Callie/Derek, Derek/Callie, F/M, Female Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devylish/pseuds/devylish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Callie are both a little... okay a lot ... tired of life as they know it; they find themselves bumping in to one another and maybe, saving one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers through end of 2010.
> 
> disclaimer on profile.

Six months in and, physically, he'd pretty much recovered.

Six months in and emotionally, he was still raw and bleeding.

The healing from the gunshot wound? Basically done. He'd forever have a scar, but he was alive. Alive and wanting to live.

Unfortunately, at the same time that he'd been in that physical life and death situation, Meredith... and their baby...

Everything he'd really ever wanted – other than his skill as a doctor – was gone. It was all gone.

The sharp stabbing pain that hit him when he found out their baby was gone was now, just a dull ache; ever present, throbbing softly in time with the pulsing of his heart.

… and the loss of Meredith?

It sickened him. It made his gut twist to know that she'd chosen to be by herself versus being with him. That she'd withdrawn into herself - into that 'dark twisty' place that she retreated to whenever the world was too much for her.

It sickened him, and It pissed him off.

Yes, he understood that she'd lost something.

But so had he. He'd lost his hope, his dreams.

He'd lost **his child** too....

And yes, he got that it was different for women... when they lost a child it was... different. But _he'd_ lost something too.

And Meredith refused to let him in. Refused let him share her pain. She refused to look at him as part of her future anymore.

And he wanted a future. He wanted a wife and... and another child. And a fucking white picket fence.

He wanted it all, because without it? All he felt was that dull throbbing hollow pain.

Living with that? Living like that?

It didn't feel much like living.

(((()))))

She was done with women.

Completely and totally done with them.

And since she'd already, previously, crossed men off of her list, she was basically left with tequila.

Tequila and her new vibrator.

Which was fine with her.

Who needed women? Or Men?

Women with their 'I love kids too much to bring them in to the world' attitudes. And men with their 'I'll fuck anything that comes within a ten foot radius of my dick' attitudes.

She was done with them. With all of them.

Yeah, she knew she wasn't perfect. She was probably a little tougher than she needed to be; too slow to truly share her affections. But she wasn't a horrible person.

And yet... she was always so alone.

George.

Mark.

Erica.

Mark.

Mark.

And now, Arizona.

She fucking left her – left 'them'- and ran off to Africa. To help the starving children of Africa. And, well, 'woo whoo' for Arizona for doing such a wonderful thing, but what about 'them'? What about Callie and Arizona? And what about the future she'd promised her?

'I want to be with you forever. '…. 'But I really don't want to raise a child with you.' …. 'Oh, and when I said forever, I was referring to the immediate foreseeable future... until something shinier and bigger and better [say Africa?] comes along.'

Callie had given up her family, her job, her home, her friends, all in the name of love. And, apparently, it still wasn't enough.

She was tired of being left behind for bigger and better, shinier and newer.

She was so fucking tired of it all.

(((()))))

"You're out of my OR! I don't want to work with someone who isn't 100% focused on their job! What we're doing is too important to mess up because we're distracted or unfocused!" Derek didn't want to keep yelling at the nurse, she was new and it had been a simple mistake, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from barking at her.

His temper and mood had become shorter and darker in the past few months, and while his patients were still getting top notch care from him, his coworkers and staff were getting the short end of of the stick.

Turning to face the ADON, who someone had pulled in to the scrub room, Derek stated, "I want her off of my rotations."

The nurse in question was pale, hugging her frame in an attempt to keep from crying. "I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"If I hadn't been paying attention to the Syliia you handed me I could have perforated his -"

A hand on his bicep caused him to stop the tirade that was re-ramping up in him. He turned sharply to see who was deigning to touch him and found himself eye to eye with Callie Torres.

"Dr. Shepherd, can I see you for a minute? I need your input on a patient."

It was a fake request. He knew it, and probably everyone in the room knew it. But it worked. Derek could feel his overheated anger starting to drain away.

Glancing, almost sheepishly around the room once, he turned and followed Callie out of the room.

They walked in silence down the hall until they reached an open on call room.

As soon as they entered the room, he slumped onto a chair, his hand moving over his face as he tried to remove the strain and ugliness that he could still feel tingling in him.

In the continued silence he looked up to see Callie leaning against the door, her back and hands pressed against the wood while her legs stretched out before her, crossed at the ankles.

She wasn't looking at him – he was glad, it was embarrassing enough to be caught in the middle of 'losing it' without having someone, a friend, see the downtrodden aftermath of your tirades.

He managed to force himself to mumble, "Thanks Torres."

She shrugged. "What did she do?"

"Wrong size Syliia – 2cc vs 1cc."

Callie glanced at him, and he flushed.

"Yeah,I know it wasn't on purpose, but still, I could have punctured the -"

Callie cleared her throat and raised a brow.

Derek stopped. "Fine. I'm sorry. I went overboard. It was a mistake."

Callie pushed away from the door and as she opened it she offered some advice. "I'm not the one you should apologize to.... Later Shepherd."

((())))

Yang settled into the booth across from Callie, a gin on her face. "So did you here the latest?"

"The latest what?" She stole a fry from Yang's plate.

"Gossip. Not that I follow gossip. But if I did, this would be the latest."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Regarding whom?"

"McMonster."

McMonster was the newest moniker bestowed upon Shepherd by the staff of SGH as he'd slowly turned from mild mannered, kindhearted brilliant surgeon, to explosive asshat. It had been like watching Dr. Jekyll turn into Mr. Hyde... in slow mo.

Callie squirmed in her seat. "What's the latest?"

"He may be reverting back to McDreamy."

She raised a brow questioningly.

"You know that RN he browbeat after surgery a couple of days ago?" She took a small breath then clarified, "Not Johnson, the other one, um, Amerson? Emerson? Well anyway, he apologized! Publicly! Gave her an 'I'm sorry' Hallmark or some sort of shit card, and in front of like 4 or 5 other staff, told her he'd been out of line!"

Callie's eyes widened. "He apologized?"

"In public." Yang picked up some fries and popped them in her mouth. "Even stated he'd be happy to have her in his OR in the future."

A small smile – part curiosity, part happiness, part 'holy-shit' – lit Callie's face. "Good for him!"

She hadn't expected Shepherd to actually apologize to Emerson, but it was surprising and nice to hear that he'd done so.

She and pretty much everyone who knew him, had begun to think that the loss of Meredith and the loss of their child had completely broken him.

It was nice to see signs that the old Derek Shepherd still existed.

((())))

Two blocks east of Joe's on the south side of the street was a yuppie bar called Appletarts. It catered to brokers, lawyers, financiers, etc. There were occasional members of SGH who would venture into Appletarts, have a drink or two, and then head out, but Appletarts definitely didn't have the draw to the SGH crowds that Joe's did. Appletarts didn't have the dark wood and faded warmth of Joe's; Everything in it was blond wood and impossibly brilliant chrome. Shiny and slick.

It was the place to go to see and be seen.

Derek still wasn't quite certain how he'd ended up in a back booth at Appletarts,; all he did know, was he'd walked out of Seattle Grace at 6pm and found himself hungry – having forgotten to eat once again.

He'd started walking towards Joe's only to find himself stuck, standing in the middle of the street, watching _them._ They were standing in the doorway – arms around one another – smiling.

It had been ten months since they'd officially broken up. Fourteen months since they lost the baby.

And at this moment, 10 months didn't seem long enough. 14 months didn't seem anywhere **damn,** near long enough.

He'd turned on his heel and headed away from Joe's, his feet leading him moments later to the anonymity and the loneliness of his current corner in Appletarts. A bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a warm bottle of beer sat beside his open laptop.

He'd spent the last forty minutes trying to split his attention between the food, his files and the people milling around the music-filled bar. And unfortunately he was failing miserably at all three. His mind, instead, kept wrestling with the question of Meredith. Of Meredith and him. And what had happened to them after the miscarriage.

Or if he were honest, what had happened to them before the miscarriage.

So much drama. And hurt. And misunderstandings.

Logically, because of all of those things he knew they were better off being 'over'. And realistically, he wanted her to be happy... at heart, he really DID want that. But his heart and his brain also wanted to know how Meredith could be happy... fulfilled... unbroken... just fourteen months later.

When he was still so empty. Sad. Broken. Alone.

So yeah, it was petty. But his heart and mind kept pricking and twisting away inside of him. Asking why, if he still hurt, she didn't.

Misery loves company... right?

(())

Shaking his head and reaching for the now warm bottle of beer, Derek took a sip and looked around the bar, his eyes landing on a woman – tall, statuesque, dark-haired – dancing in the middle of the bar. Her back was to him and she held a beer in her hand, ironically the same kind of beer he was drinking – and her hips were swaying, dipping, left and right in time with the bass heavy jazz beat that echoed through the pub.

Derek held the beer to his mouth, his eyes tracking up and down the woman's frame; her curves.

He swallowed hard when he lifted his eyes back up from her hips and he realized the 'private dancer' he'd been studying so intensely was none other than Callie Torres.

(((())))

Callie was pretty certain she needed to get laid.

It wasn't that she wanted to get laid – she'd crossed relationships and everything that went with them off of her list two months ago.

So no, it wasn't want... what she was feeling now, at this moment, was need.

She was suffering from this need when she walked out of the hospital a half hour later than planned. It had been a long long day. She was tired. And pissy. And horny.

Breathing out, she watched the visible puff of air float into the cool November air, and tugged her leather jacket closer to her frame.

She looked across the street; she could go to Joe's, but... everyone would be at Joe's. And she didn't want to be around 'everyone'. She wanted to get a drink... or two... or five... and she wanted the oblivion those drinks would provide. The oblivion that would lead to sleeping with some random stranger.

And she was pretty certain she was going to end up in someone elses bed tonight.

Pretty damn certain.

(())

five tequila shots and two beers later and Callie was feeling no pain.

Delightfully buzzed she picked up her third bottle of beer and moved out on to the small dance floor. She was alone, but experience had taught her that she probably wouldn't be alone for long.

Sure enough, four minutes in to her solo dancing – tempo and bass and treble moving through her - she felt a presence behind her.

Turning around, on beat with the music she smiled at the Nordic blonde who was moving in time with her.

The blonde let her eyes drop to Callie's chest, then trail back up to her face, and she smiled back... and it was all set.

It was there in the stranger's eyes: they would dance and flirt and smile and … get closer... and then, Callie would go home with the woman.

As the lithe blonde stepped in to Callie's space, placing her hands on Callie's hips, Callie suffered the merest, briefest twinge of conscience – a second of self loathing – and then she blinked and threw back the last of her beer and her conscience; her self loathingwas firmly blanketed by physical sensation.

The blonde's hands were demanding and her eyes were soft. And Callie watched the tip of her pink tongue dart out, touching the edge of her lower lip then disappear again.

"My name's Eden."

_Of course it was..._ "Hi Eden, I'm -"

"Sorry... she's with me."

Callie blinked as she was separated from her evenings entertainment. A familiar face and figure – Derek Shepherd's – moved between her and the blonde.

She opened her mouth in surprise – to complain – but the liquor she'd imbibed seemed to have caused a short between her lips and her brain. The only thing that came out of mouth was "Shepherd?" And then she was being dragged out of the bar.

She tried speaking again, "Shepherd?"

"Torres." He kept walking, pulling her with him down the street.

"Derek!"

He stopped walking and turned around, his hand wrapped around her bicep. "What?"

"What are you doing?" She meant to sound more pissed, more demanding. She failed.

"I'm stopping you from doing something stupid."

Callie jerked her arm from Derek's grip and self-consciously wrapped her arms around her waist. "What if I want to do something stupid?"

"There's stupid, and there's really stupid." Derek reached for Callie's arm again, this time grabbing her wrist and, turning to head back down the street, he kept talking. "Jumping in to bed with a complete stranger? In this day and age? Drunk as a skunk? That falls under 'really stupid'."

Stumbling after Derek Callie muttered, "I'm not drunk... yet. Just tipsy." Raising her voice she added, "And who says I was going to jump in to bed with anyone!"

Derek came to full stop, turned and faced Callie and raised a brow.

"Fine. Fine! So I was going to get laid. Where's the crime in that? I'm a full grown adult."

Derek surreptitiously let his gaze travel down Callie's form. "You'd hate yourself in the morning if you had a one night stand." He turned back around, still dragging her after him.

"But I'd feel damn good tonight!" She mumbled.

He repeated, "But you'd hate yourself in the morning."

Callie fumed silently for a second then asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"Home."

"Jesus, Shepherd, who suddenly made you my mother?"

"Sloan. Sloan would be pissed if I let you do something... dumb."

Callie gave a bark of laughter, "Mark? Mark couldn't care less if I slept my way through the Alphabet at Seattle Grace. Not now that he has Addison back." A small twinge of pain followed by a smaller twinge of guilt shot through her. "Fine. Take me home." She stopped resisting him. "But I'm getting laid tonight."

Derek stopped walking and Callie slammed into him from behind. "Ouch!"

Derek sighed. If he dropped Callie off at her place, she'd simply wait until he'd left, and then she'd head out to the nearest bar and pick up some other one night stand.

He sighed again. _Shit. He'd given up on being the Good Samaritan. It got you nowhere._

Yet here he was again.

"Sometimes I hate my life." He muttered as he pulled at Callie again. This time tugging her to the left.

"Join the club." Callie responded. "Hey, my place's that way!"

"Yeah, well, we're going to my place."


	2. Healing

"So this is it huh? I kinda thought it'd be...bigger."

Derek deadpanned a response as he settled his laptop bag on the floor: "It's not the size, it's what you do with it that matters."

Callie cracked a half smile and turned around to take in all of Derek's new apartment. And taking it all in was pretty easy considering it was a 550 sq ft studio.

It was made up of exposed brick walls, rough hewed beams on the 10-12ft ceilings, and dark oak or walnut floors. A half-wall 'separated' the kitchen from the living/bedroom space and two doors – both of which were open – showed a closet and a bathroom.

"You forget I spent the last 6-7 years in a 272 sq ft trailer. This is more space than I know what to do with."

"Apparently." Callie counted approximately six pieces of furniture in Derek's new home. A low, massive cream colored leather couch, a coffee table, a 50" TV mounted to the wall, a full sized bed, bedside table, and two bar-stools (appropriately seated before the half-wall/breakfast bar in the kitchen. "Can't afford more belongings on your Neuro salary?"

A couple of lamps were also scattered throughout the room... lamps Derek was walking around flipping on. When he was done, he turned back to look at Callie, who stood in the middle of the apartment. With a shrug he responded, "I don't need more. The fridge is fully stocked, I'm now 13 minutes away from the hospital, versus 30. Life is good." He sat down on the couch, frustration and faux-happiness seeping out of his eyes and voice.

Callie moved to the end of the coffee table, setting down the container of soup – now empty – that Derek had stopped to pick up and forced her to imbibe. "Well, it's been nice..., seeing your place... riding with you... but I'm going to be heading out now."

"Don't make me wrestle you Callie."

Callie raised a brow and snorted her obvious disbelief. "Oh please - "

"You're staying here tonight."

"You really DO think you're my mom, don't you?"

Before he could respond, she continued, "Or my fucking guardian angel, or... Derek, you can't stop me from," she air-quoted his words back to him, "'doing something stupid' if I want to do something stupid."

He looked up at her, tiredly, "I can stop you tonight."

Callie looked at Derek appraisingly, wondering how far he'd go to chase her down if she tried to 'escape'.

And then she wondered how 'worth it' trying to run away would really be.

Finally, she wondered if there wasn't another answer to her predicament. Callie still had just enough of a buzz running through her system to override her common sense. "Okay, let's say I agree to stay," she perched on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Derek.

Crossing her legs she leaned forward and placed her hand on Derek's knee. "Maybe we could make this work out. I can get what I want, and you can... get a reward for being the good guy."

 _Did Callie Torres just proposition me? I think Callie Torres just propositioned me._ Derek worked hard at not gulping. But he couldn't  quite prevent himself from staring at Callie's cleavage. And somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he hadn't had sex in … nine months. His gaze shifted from Callie's breasts to her lips and he had a fleeting realization of their shape... their fullness. He opened his mouth –

– Callie felt her bravado fleeing her frame between one breath and the next. Not waiting for Derek's denial of her 'stupid' offer, she lifted her hand from his knee and stood up – all of the bluster and fire and desperation that had been nipping at her – flying away. "Never-mind. I'll stay. Dibs on the bed."

She wandered the few steps needed to reach the bed, bent down and tested its comfort with her hand. Turning around, she asked, lightly – as if she hadn't just proposed sex to him, "Do you have anything I can wear to bed?"

He blinked, stood up and walked silently to the closet that stored a shelving system and rows of clothes. He flipped through some t shirts and sweats, pulling a couple of them out. "These should fit."

Callie grimaced slightly as she accepted the clothes. "I'm definitely not Grey's size." The words were bitten out as she turned on her heel, moving into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Derek opened his mouth to correct her, then shut it. _This is why I hate women; they get the wrong ideas, about everything._ The only concern he'd had regarding the fit of the clothes he'd handed her was … well … across the chest. Callie was. . . . endowed.

A flash of her cleavage passed through his mind and suddenly, for only the 2nd time since he and Meredith had split, Derek realized he needed to get laid.

Grabbing the blanket that lay at the foot of the bed, and one of the bed pillows, he padded to the couch, throwing them down before he dropped heavily next to them.

Swinging his legs up on to the couch, he laid back and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the bathroom faucet running.

A dark, quiet, bark of laughter escaped him as he realized that he was now in the same spot that Callie had been in an hour ago: he wanted to get drunk, and he needed to get laid.

((()))

Callie woke up... happily. She had a deep long stretch of her limbs, reveling in the feel of the shift of smooth soft cotton sheets. She gave a quiet little moan, and opening her eyes,glanced to her left to check the time.

Only, her clock wasn't on the bedside table where it was suppose to be.

She lifted her head and squinted and then,she realized it wasn't the clock that wasn't where it was suppose to be, it was her.

She wasn't in her own bed.

She was in Derek Shepherd's bed.

She lifted the sheet and glanced beneath it, confirming that she was at least still fully clothed and with a sigh, she plopped her head back down on to the pillow; happy she hadn't done something stupid.

 _Something stupid?_ And suddenly, the events of the previous night came rushing back to her in total. The horrible day. The need for a drink... and a lay. The need to do something stupid. With the blonde. Derek, being a white knight. The empty-ish studio apartment.

…. the hitting on one Dr. Shepherd by one Dr. Torres.

_She'd hit on Derek!_

Pulling the sheets up over her head she groaned into her hands.

_Talk about doing something stupid Calliope!_

Lowering the sheet, she lifted her frame and looked across the room. Derek was still sprawled out on his lengthy couch, his eyes closed, his chest rising then falling slowly.

She flopped back down on the bed for just a second – happy Derek was still asleep and unable to confront her about her desperate, tipsy, horny attempted seduction.

Edging her way out from beneath the sheets, Callie climbed out of Derek's bed (Derek's bed!) an embarrassed frown covering her face. Reaching for the clothes and shoes and jacket she'd worn last night she bunched them up and tiptoed to the door.

Flipping the locks she slipped out of the apartment, sighing with relief when she'd closed the door behind her. She stopped just long enough to find her wallet and put on her coat and shoes, then she sprinted down the hall, down the stairs and out of Derek's building.

At this moment she was fully, fully embracing her new motto of running away from embarrassment because... well, because she could.

(((())))

Two weeks is a long time to avoid interacting with someone who you normally saw on a day to day basis.

But somehow, both Callie and Derek managed to avoid each other for nearly two weeks, each of them motivated by different reasons.

Derek was motivated by … confusion. A touch on his knee. A low intoned suggestion and suddenly, for the first time in nearly a year, he was thinking about sex again.

Okay, no, this wasn't the first time he'd thought about sex in the last year. He WAS a guy. But now, in the past couple of weeks? His mind had rolled and roiled with the thoughts of how much he missed and wanted sex.

With a woman.

And no, he wasn't dumb, he knew he could find a woman for a one night stand if he really wanted to. He had money and a successful career, and he knew plenty of women were attracted to those things... And would do plenty of things to gain access to them.

The problem was that no matter how much he wanted sex, Derek wanted sex as part of a relationship. He wanted a woman he could know. He'd done one night stands, and he wasn't good at them.

He didn't particularly WANT to be good at them.

His conundrum, then, was trying to find a way to get laid, without it being a one night stand, and without it being part of a relationship, because he knew he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

(())

Callie, on the other hand was desperate to avoid Derek because, well, she was straight up embarrassed.

Not only had he seen her out at Appletarts trolling for a lay, but she'd hit on him!

She'd hit on Derek Shepherd!

Every time she recollected her actions and her words, she wanted to bang her head against a wall.

What had she been thinking?

… of course, that was just it. She hadn't been thinking, at least, not with her head. Her lips, her hips, her skin... those things had been doing a lot of thinking... but her brain had been on hiatus. Her emotions had been on overload.

Arizona moving to Africa; choosing the unknown over Callie.  
And Callie didn't get it.  
She was heartbroken.  
Her nights were empty, her days long.

Mark and Addison getting together; revolving around one another.  
She got it.  
She was happy for her best friends.  
But being the third wheel was tough.

Callie wanted what Cristina and Owen had. What Mark and Addy had. She wanted to be happy with someone.

And two weeks ago, she'd wanted that 'happy' so bad – even if it was just for a second or for a night – that she'd offered herself to the lowest bidder – the blonde. And then, she'd thrown herself at the long shot – Derek.

Callie was good at one night stands; she knew how to work them. How to survive with them. But she was no longer positive that she wanted to be good at them.

Instead, she pretty much knew that she wanted someone in her life who she could call her own.

Someone who would call her theirs.

(((())))

The continuing medical education presentation was going to start in about fifteen minutes and the audience, made up largely of doctors, was slowly filling up the conference room.

Callie took a deep breath and forced herself to walk over to where Derek was seated. He'd picked a spot near the top of the auditorium, for which she was grateful. She figured that this way if Derek 1) riotously laughed at her or 2) angrily pushed her away there wouldn't be a lot of people around to overhear it.

Sidling in to the chair next to Derek, she stole a glance at him. His eyes were focused on the front of the room and following his line of sight, she saw exactly what was capturing his attention so intently.

Meredith and Alex. They stood grinning and smirking at one another, and as Callie watched them she saw Alex brush a strand of hair behind Grey's ear.

Pity and understanding flooded Callie as she looked at Derek again. His eyes were tired... sad.

Forgetting the apology and embarrassment she'd been toying with, she, instead, opened her laptop and drily offered, "So I've decided, our problem? Blondes. You and I need to stop chasing after blondes."

Derek blinked and shifted in his seat, dragging his eyes away from the Meredith and Alex show. Confusion wrinkled his brow, "Huh?"

She tilted her chin towards Meredith/Alex. "Arizona, Sadie, Erica, Meredith?... blondes. Blondes = bad."

A small unwilling, but honest, smile wrinkled Derek's visage, "Mere isn't a blonde."

"Dishwater blonde... it still counts."

"Okay, then how do you explain George and Addison?"

"1) Male aberration and 2) please! We both know Addison wasn't born a red head."

A burst of laughter escaped Derek and a matching smile split Callie's face.

It was good to see Shepherd laughing again. Laughter suited his face.

(((())))

"You know," Callie put down her Diet Mountain Dew and squinted at Derek, "You're not nearly as boring as I thought you'd be."

He swallowed a sip of coffee, "Uh..., thanks?"

"No, I mean, this has been... these past two weeks or so...? I could definitely see myself hanging with you."

"I hate to tell you Torres, but for the past two weeks you **have** been hanging with me."

She stuck her tongue out at him, "Yes. And my point is, you haven't bored me."

"And to think, I haven't even whipped out my juggling skills yet."

"And if you want to keep the 'not boring' label, let's keep the juggling skills hidden." She stole a fry off of his plate.

"Okay, I've noticed you like fries... my fries in particular... but you never buy your own." He waved at her salad plate. "Why?"

"I like to share?" She shrugged, "Besides, fries are fattening."

He peered across the table at Callie, "Is that why you get the salads? Watching your weight?"

Another shrug – heavier this time. "Svelte is in."

"You do realize you've caught," he ticked off on his fingers, "George, Mark, Erica, Mark, Sadie, Mark and Arizona by looking," his eyes made an involuntary dip towards her chest, "Uhm." This time he moved his hands through the air in the shape of an hour glass.

"Is that your hand sign for chubby?"

Derek raised his brows, "you know you're a knockout, right? I reiterate: Mark, George, Arizona..." he trailed off.

"Well something about me isn't clicking or working. I may be luring them in, but, I sure as hell can't seem to keep them." She gave him a small smile, "Losing a few pounds couldn't hurt."

Derek tried another tact. "I thought we'd agreed, it's not us, it's the blondes."

"Yeah well my Catholic guilt is kicking in and making me think that after four or five tries, maybe it's time to admit, 'it's me'."

Derek slunk down in his seat. "Catholic guilt... I use to have nightmares about the school nuns hunting me down and shaking their rulers in my face because of crap I'd done."

"You did crap?" Callie sat up, intrigued.

He flushed lightly, "Just stupid kid stuff."

"Like...?" She placed her head on her hand and stared at him.

Derek glanced around the diner they were having lunch in before whispering, "I stole a candy bar when I was eleven, Smythe's Pharmacy."

Callie sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Barbie doll from Edson's Galleria when I was twelve."

Derek leaned forward with a smile, "Streaked through the auditorium in high school, fifteen years old."

"Skinny dipped in Alouette Creek, with two boys – sixteen years old."

His voice dropping even lower than before, Derek shared, "Kissed my cousin Mary Beth at Uncle Bryan's wedding, seventeen years old."

"Dude! You kissed your cousin?"

Derek glanced around again to see who'd paid attention to Callie's outburst, he offered an embarrassed excuse, "She was hot."

Callie snorted, "And blonde?"

He shrugged, "And blonde."

Callie leaned back in to the table, her hair falling forward as her voice dipped, "No details, but: hand job, choir room, St. Mathias Church. Nineteen years old."

Derek's Adam's apple bobbed once. "Uh, okay, you win."

She smiled brightly, "Ohhhh, I don't know, the cousin thing was pretty big." She scrunched her face in his direction, "Do you see her anymore? The cousin?"

"Last time I saw her was when I went back to Boston to visit mom and dad. Her twins were being christened."

"No more sparks?"

"Not a one."

"Good to hear. Cuz I'm pretty certain the nuns really would slap you silly for that 'crap'."

((()))

"Okay, I can't stand it!" Cristina hissed quietly as she watched Derek's retreating back.

"Can't stand what?" Callie asked as she signed what felt like her 100th order that day.

"You. Derek. You and Derek!" Yang peered at her friend. "Are you two bumping uglies?"

Callie dropped her pen. "Are we... what?"

"Bumping uglies? Doing the horizontal Mambo? Making the beast with two – mmmph!"

"Stop!" Callie clapped her hand across Yang's mouth. "Why – ew!" She jerked her hand away from her friend's mouth when she felt Yang's tongue against her palm.

Rubbing the moisture against the thigh of her scrubs, she glared at a grinning Cristina Yang. "Why would you think Derek and I are... doing what you said?"

An eye roll was followed by Yang's explanation of her question. "For the last month, month and a half, you two have been glued together at the hips. I just can't quite tell if you're glued 'naughty-to-naughty' or if it's platonic." She peered inquisitively at Callie. "So?"

Callie kept her eyes pointed at the paperwork in front of her. "McDreamy and me? So not one anothers types. I mean... he's a good guy. I like him. We like each other, but not in an... uhh, 'ugly' or 'naughty' touching way. We're just friends. He's a good guy," her voice trailed off weakly.

Yang examined Callie's averted face.

"Holy shit you like him!"

Callie's hand went back up to Yang's mouth. "I didn't say that! Well, yes I did say that. But I didn't say it that way." She felt Cristina's tongue against the palm of her hand again. "Do you have any idea where my hand has been?"

Yang grimaced and mumbled something from beneath Callie's grip.

"Promise to shut up about Shepherd... and me?"

Rolling her eyes and mumbling again, Yang nodded affirmatively.

Slowly releasing her grip on her friend, Callie gave a sigh of frustration when Yang jumped away from her and crowed happily at Torres. "You're getting it on with Shepherd!"

"We're not... I'm not... no!" Her fight or flee instinct clicked on to _flee_ and picking up her forms she backed away. "There's no 'getting it on' going on. Not with me. Not with Shepherd. Not with me and Shepherd. Stop your ugly, naughty, bumping thoughts now."

Yang's 'I know something good' laugh followed Callie's escape down the hall.

(((())))

Derek accepted the bottle of beer from Mark, and was taking his first sip when Mark asked, "So are you and Callie sleeping together?"

"Mark!" Addison hit him on the chest as he settled next to her. "What the hell happened to subtle?"

"That wasn't subtle? That felt subtle to me."

"No. That wasn't subtle." Addison turned away from Mark and faced Derek, a look of apology on her face. "Sorry, he usually follows my directions much better than that."

"TMI." Derek raised his hand in protest.

Mark grinned.

"...but since he put it out there, tactlessly, but none the less 'out there'," Addison leaned forward. "Are you and Callie... together?"

Derek gulped. "Why would you ask that?"

Addison's eyes narrowed. Answering a question with a question, Derek evasive movement number one. "You two have been spending a lot of time together."

"I'm not allowed to... hang out with other people?"

She smiled at him and settled back against Mark's arm. Try and turn question into an accusation or argument, Derek evasive movement number two. "Of course you are darling. Mark and I were just... curious. Our two best friends. Spending a lot of time together. Day and night. Both of them looking extensively happy..."

Mark piped up. "Sex makes me happy man. And Callie sex, is particularly happy making, so we just thought – OUCH!"

"Bring up Callie sex again and see what I do to the other nipple." Addison glared up at Mark.

While Mark lifted his hands to protect his chest, Addison turned back to Derek. "Sweetie, we just want you to be happy. And you seem more... settled, more relaxed, more... well, happy, these past couple of months. We were just wondering if it might be Callie's doing."

Mark added, "especially since she seems to be all happy and glowy too."

Derek smiled nervously. He _was_ happier these days. Undeniably so. And he'd lay money down on the bet that said Callie was a part... a big part of that happiness. That being said, "There's no... uh, Callie sex going on. At least not with me." He threw back his beer and stood up. "Want another one?" He motioned towards Addison's kitchen.

"I'm good."

Addison shook her head negatively and bit the inside of her lip. Escape the scene of the inquisition, Derek evasive move number three.

Tucking herself further into Mark's arm, she looked up at him and whispered. "He so has the hots for Callie."

"What makes you say that? He said nothing was going on."

"Oh, I have my ways of telling when Derek's hiding something. And, yeah, he's hiding a big Jones for Callie."

Letting his hand drop to Addison's breast, Mark asked: "A big Jones? Is that anything like a big Johnson?"

"MARK!"


	3. Me and You

Do not look at the giant pink elephant standing in the middle of the room.

As a matter of fact, don't even think about it.

… that's right, keep your mind off of the swishing tail. And the gently flapping and folding ears. Ignore the fuchsia pink skin. And the bright pink eyes.

Do not pay any attention to the giant pink elephant standing in the middle of the room.

.

.

.

Yeah. Right.

Ever since Yang had pointed out the 'pink elephant in the room' Callie had found it pretty impossible to keep her eyes... or her mind off of the pachyderm.

The pachyderm being Derek Shepherd and his sort of, kind of, suddenly being hot.

She'd always known he was cute. She'd always thought he was a decent guy. But in the past few months while they'd been spending more and more time together – out of necessity. Out of comfort – Callie had become hyper aware of him. Hyper aware of his blue eyes. And his perfect hair. And his OMG adorable smile. And she'd been forced by Yang's uncanny observational skills to see that she might, kind of, want him.

Stupid Yang.

Stupid grinning Yang.

Stupid, good looking, kind, wheedle-his-way-into-a-girl's-mind Shepherd.

Stupid pink elephants.

(())

"Can you call Addison off?" Derek hung up his phone and growled in Mark's direction.

"You know Addison, when she gets something in her mind, she isn't satisfied until she sees it all the way through."

Derek dropped his phone in to the bottom of his bag and grabbed his jacket out of the locker, "Which is fine when what she wants is something for her, but this isn't about her."

"She's just worried about you. And Callie."

Derek threw his hands up. "There is no me and Callie. I keep telling Addison," he shot a glare at Mark, "and you, that there's no Derek and Callie. There's just Derek," he moved his hands in the shape of a square, "and Callie," he shifted his hands to the right and waved them in the shape of an hourglass. "Two separate … things."

Mark crossed his arms as he leaned against the row of lockers. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, Addison thinks your square and Callie's curvy thing go well together." He pushed away from the lockers, "And I can't say I disagree with her."

With a groan, Derek dropped down on to the bench and rubbed his eyes. "Is there anything I can do to convince you two you're barking up the wrong tree?"

Mark grinned, "1) stop smiling so much when you're around Callie, 2) stop spending all of your free time with Callie, 3) stop making every other word out of your mouth be about 'Callie'. Do those three small things and maybe I can convince Addie to let the dream go."

Derek was screwed. He knew he was screwed. He was spending all of his non work time with Callie. And she did make him smile – all the time. And she was all he wanted to talk about. But he also knew, knew Callie/Derek, Derek/Callie was something that could never happen. Callie was so out of his league, it was like they were playing entirely different games.

Oh, he was pretty certain she liked him – found him to be a nice guy – but she liked her men to be, well, most recently, she liked her men to be women. And prior to that, she'd liked her men to be... Mark.

Derek lifted his head and looked at his friend. "I always kind of thought you and Callie would make a go of it."

Mark raised a brow, "I think we were close to it... a couple of times, but..." he paused. "I can commit. And I do want a family, but I'm not as..." he paused again. "Callie? As unique and one of a kind as she is? She's really pretty traditional. She wants a picket fence. And 4.5 kids and two dogs and a cat. It was like we wanted the same things, but not in the same ways. One or two kids, and I'll be good. 3 bedroom apartment on Miller Row? Perfect. And I only like dogs and cats when they belong to someone else." Mark smiled, "For Callie and I, it was never a matter of not caring for one another, or not a matter of not wanting the same things, but more a matter of degrees."

"And you and Addison?"

"Want a three bedroom apartment on Miller Row to house our 1.5 kids."

Derek nodded his head in understanding.

Mark added, "I seem to recall that you, my friend, still own a piece of property that's just perfect for building a six bedroom, picket fenced house on."

"Sloan."

Mark lifted his hands innocently, "I'm just saying."

(())

Callie had sleepover clothes at Derek's place.

They weren't her clothes. They were his. A rotation of faded Boston University t shirts and sweatpants. They were pulled out of the closet for her whenever she stayed over. Freshly washed even if she had just stayed over the night before.

Which was happening more and more often.

_He didn't want her trekking home in the dark – it was dangerous out there._

_It was too late for her to leave, by the time she got home and got settled for bed, she'd have to get up to go to work._

_She didn't have to work tomorrow, so she could stay a little longer... heck, stay over._

She couldn't say exactly when it became their 'thing' for her to stay over. But she did remember the discussion that started their thing of sharing the bed.

It was the fifth or sixth time that she'd stayed over, and Derek had gallantly opted for the couch each time. And she was feeling guilty.

"Seriously Derek, take the bed. I'll take the couch. It's your place."

"And you're a guest."

"I'm not a guest anymore. I'm... I'm a friend. I'll take the couch."

"You're a 'girl' friend. You're not taking the couch."

Hands on hips, Callie had stared at Derek. "You're not winning this argument. You win all of our arguments, but this one... no. I'm not going to be responsible for SGH's Neurology superstar surgeon throwing out his back because I made him sleep on a sofa. Weber would kill me. I'll take the couch."

"I'm not an invalid Callie, I can handle sleeping on the couch... I and my back can handle sleeping on the couch. It's really pretty comfortable."

"Then let me have it."

"My mother would never forgive me if I let a female guest camp out on the couch. It's not happening."

"So because I have ovaries you won't let me sleep on the couch?"

He shrugged. "Basically."

"Okay, fine. I'm going home then."

"Callie, it's after midnight, you have to be at the hospital at six a.m., just... stay, take the bed, we can figure something else out another night."

Callie picked up her leather jacket and started to put it on, only stopping when Derek stuttered out, "Fine, we – we can share. The bed."

_They could share the bed._

One sheet, one blanket, one comforter, two pillows... and just the two of them.

"We could... we...," Callie swallowed hard and felt the jacket she'd started to put on, slipping back off. "I...,"she grabbed the bull by the horns, "Pick which side of the bed you want." She avoided eye contact and simply reached out for the bed clothes he'd already pulled out for her and headed into the bathroom.

(())

_We could share? Shepherd! What the...! There's no way you can share a bed with Torres. No way! Not without..._ He groaned.

(())

They pretended they weren't crossing a line when they turned off the bedside lamp and the room was enveloped in darkness. Friends could share a bed – platonically. Without it meaning or leading to anything.

Right?

(())

\- Six weeks later -

(())

"Taylor Swift?" Callie held up the CD – a grimace on her face. "Are you kidding me?"

"What? She's good." Derek put the trough of nachos he'd just made down onto the coffee table and padded, barefoot, back in to the kitchen.

"No. Really, she's not." Callie put the CD in the 'toss' pile. "Besides," she raised her voice, "She's blonde."

"So I can't even listen to music by blondes anymore?" He headed back out of the kitchen, two bottles of beer in one hand and napkins in his other hand.

"You can listen to blondes. Blondes who have talent. I'm letting you keep your Madonna CDs." Callie reached in to the box that sat closest to her and pulled out another handful of discs. "Although, if you want to keep your man-card, you might not want to share that fact with Sloan or Weber or... well, anyone." She reached up and accepted the bottle he handed to her.

"I'm not worried about my man-card, thanks."

"Securely attached huh?" Callie smiled as she took a sip.

"Tattooed in place." He reached for the remote and turned the TV on. "So remind me, what do I get when the Pats beat the Dolphins?" He muted the sports-center newscasters.

"You won't be getting anything, because the Patriots are losers; that being said, on the off chance the Patriots pull out a win against the Dolphins, I will do your dishes every day for the next two weeks." Callie put her beer on the coffee table and turned to face Derek. "Now if you could remind me, please, what I'm going to get when the pukey Pats get their asses handed to them by the Dolphins?"

Derek grinned, "I go with you to your sister's pre-engagement engagement party."

"And suffer from the oohs and ahhs and petting that all of the women there will give you."

"And how again is oohing and ahhing and petting 'torture'?"

"Aria's friends and our aunts," Callie rolled her eyes, "would only be petting you because you're a doctor... A Catholic, single, cute doctor."

Derek grinned. His grin broadened as Callie pinkened upon realizing she'd just called him cute to his face.

Callie turned back to the discs she was working with. "Shut up and turn the volume on."

Derek laughed but did as he was told.

(())

They had been faux living together for almost two months. Callie sleeping over at Derek's apartment nearly every night, Derek grocery shopping and cooking for 'two' ... everyone... and yeah I mean everyone, thinking that they were an item. Even Mrs. Groschek, the little old woman who lived on the first floor in the apartment at the front of Derek's building thought they were a couple.

"So are you and your girl going to get married?"

Derek stopped, looked around the hall and realized that, yes, Mrs. Groschek was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You, and your girl," She paused over the name, "Callie? Are you two getting married any time soon? I don't approve of these long drawn out living together situations. You either should be together or you shouldn't. And every woman and every man deserves to have someone they know will be waiting for them when they come home at night." She sniffed then whispered conspiratorially, "well every woman except that Miss Challett on 4. She's... well, she's just not nice. Now your Callie, she's nice. Picks up my paper for me when she comes in. And always smiling. Such a beautiful smile." Mrs. Groschek winked at Derek, "Especially when she comes downstairs in the morning." A blush crossed Mrs. Groschek's faded cheeks before she cleared her throat and straightened her already impossibly straight shoulders. "But I still don't approve of the 'test driving' you young folks do these days." She stepped closer to Derek. "You two need to get married. You seem to make each other happy. You're definitely much happier than you were when you moved in to the Pointe Arms." Without waiting for a response she backed away. "If you tell me when the marriage is, I'll make your fiancee a handkerchief for the wedding."

Calling to her cat who was wandering the hall, Mrs. Groschek smiled at Derek and closed the door to her apartment.

_You're definitely much happier than you were when you moved in to the Pointe Arms_... Mrs. Groschek's words followed him as he climbed the stairs to his apartment.

He was. Happier.

He hadn't felt this... content in years.

Turning the key in the lock, Derek opened his apartment door. His eyes took in the the space that Callie had, more or less, inhabited with him for the past two or so months. A space that had become a home. A couple of carpets were now strategically placed in the room – one beneath the bed and one in front of the couch. Throw pillows – in red, and far more comfortable than he'd ever admit – lay on each end of the couch. A small stereo, with an iPod – gift from Callie (filled with the music she'd 'allowed' him to keep – and songs she'd introduced him to) sat on a side table next to the couch.

The bed, previously blanketed with a white down comforter, was now dressed with four pillows and a dark red duvet.

The walls were covered with black and white pictures... Pictures of Boston, his family, even the blown up picture of a neuro-synapses.

Everything in the apartment spoke to him.

All of the little changes whispered 'home'.

And he suddenly realized it was all because of Callie.

((()))

"Definitely the red ones."

"You think?" Callie tilted her right foot to the left, gazing at it in the mirror.

"The black ones are nice; and if you were going for a whole, 'fuck me at the office in my business suit' look they'd be the ones."

"Addison!" Callie hissed and glanced around the nearly empty shoe store.

Addison leaned back on her hands and continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Now the red ones, with that first dress..., or even the third dress we bought? They scream 'I'm a woman in charge and I will be the one doing the fucking.'"

Callie walked back to the bench Addison was seated on, a red shoe on one foot, a black one on the other, and sat down next to her redheaded friend. "I don't want my shoes saying anything about," she lowered her voice with another look around the store "fucking."

"Uh, huh."

"Addison, it's my sister's engagement party."

"And you're going with Derek."

"He lost a bet."

"And you're wearing a hot dress."

"It's my sister's engagement party."

"And for that you need a hot dress?"

"I want to look nice." Callie mumbled as she unstrapped the shoes.

"For your sister."

"For my sister."

"Uh huh."

((()))

Callie pushed the door of Derek's apartment open, her hands filled with shoe bags and garment bags and, in general, enough purchases to put her in debt for two months.

She probably should have taken the new goods to 'her' apartment, but, honestly, she hadn't seen the inside of her place in a week, and, well, she wanted to show the shoes, if not the dresses, to Derek.

Not that she really wanted his opinion, but...

With a sigh she waddled in to the apartment and kicked the door shut behind her. With a second sigh she dropped her keys on the floor and looked up to see Derek standing in front of the bed, his hands in his pockets. And he was watching her.

"Hi. I know, I know... I went shopping. I blame Addison. And Aria. And the fact that I'm a girl." She grinned at him. "But, I'll probably return some of these, I just couldn't make up my mind in the store." She started releasing the paper and plastic bags she'd walked in with but was stopped short when she looked up again and found Derek standing right in front of her. She rolled her eyes questioningly. "Wha -?"

Derek took a deep breath, lifted his hand to Callie's neck and pulled her towards him, dipping his head towards hers.

Before she could register what was happening, Callie found herself in Derek's arms, his lips against hers.

_I'm kissing her._

_He's kissing me._

Callie's hands, still filled with bags and clothes and shoes, clenched around the handles as she leaned in to Derek's touch; in to his kiss. And it was more than she'd imagined it would be.

And yes she'd imagined this. Forget what she'd told Yang. What she'd told Addison. She'd had daydreams, thoughts, wishes..., she'd wanted this to happen.

She'd never thought it would actually happen. But she'd wanted it. And here she was; here he was, and it was better than she'd dared hope.

And then he stopped, pulling away, just a bit, brushing the tip of his nose against hers in a slow, gentle fashion. His breath was shallow and warm against her cheek as he whispered. "I'm going to back away now... don't slap me. Okay?"

Callie wasn't quite thinking coherently. She couldn't do anything more than stare at him as he stepped back leaving one hand on her waist. Her eyes were glassy and her lips parted, and all she wanted was to have him pull her back into his arms.

With his free hand he reached up and brushed her bangs away from the side of her face. And Callie, thought for a moment, just for a moment that she saw a look in his eyes. A look she knew she couldn't really be seeing, and she managed to get five words out of her mouth. "What the hell was that?"

"Unless I've been doing it wrong all these years, that, was a kiss." His answer was delivered a little more nervously than he'd intended.

"No. That was definitely a kiss," Callie offered with a faint flush. "I meant, why was there a kiss." She looked at his eyes again. "Between you. And me. A kiss. Why?"

_Because I've wanted to kiss you ever since the night you propositioned me? Because you're beautiful? Because I'm a man and you're most definitely a woman? Because you made me happy when I didn't think I would ever be happy again?_ He offered up a paltry: "I have a lot to thank you for."

Callie blinked. And then she blinked again. And then, stepping away from his grasp she slowly released her hold on her bags. "A lot to thank me for?" She raised a brow and looked back at him. "Is the kissing thing how you thank all of your friends?"

Divested of the shoes and dresses/plastic and paper she'd been carrying, Callie put more distance between herself and Derek; moving to the end of the far end of the couch.

Derek ran his fingers through his hair. "I – okay, uh, I do owe you a lot. But -" He paused then tackled the situation from another direction. "So, uhm, do you still only play on the all girls team?"

"Do I -?" Momentary confusion followed by understanding, was followed by a short chuckle. "I... I still find women attractive, but," she wondered what Derek's question had to do with the 'hello' kiss she'd just received. Lifting her fingers to her lips, she continued, "but I've never really stopped being a fan of the male league."

"Really?"

"Both teams have a lot going for them."

Derek stuck his hands in his pockets. "So it's possible, maybe, that you could imagine yourself dating – a guy – at some time in the future?"

She held her breath for a second then answered, "The right guy."

He nodded his head. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Derek mentally grabbed his balls and cracking his head from one side to the other, he walked over to where Callie sat. "Would you like to play with me?"

As soon as he realized what he'd asked – how he'd asked it – Derek closed his eyes and hung his head. Jesus Christ! "I really didn't mean to say that that way."

He opened one eye and then the other to see Callie doubled up on the couch silently laughing at him.

He cracked a smile. "It's not that funny."

"Yes," she chuckled. "It kind of is." Chuckle. And as she eyed him standing there looking at the ground wishing he could rephrase his question, Callie realized – again – just how cute he was. And how sweet, and so much more than she had ever thought he would be. And suddenly felt that reckless, unexpected spark of attraction that had make her hit on him so many weeks ago hit her again. She stood up, her body inches away form his.

"Just to clarify, were you trying to ask me if I'd play on your team? With you?"

He made eye contact and stepped a little closer to her, "Well... if I was asking you to play on my team, with me, what would your answer be?"

Callie smiled at the fragile little steps … forward and backwards and forwards... She'd always loved dancing; she'd just never thought she'd be dancing – this dance – with Derek. She opened her mouth, but before she could think of a witty, playful, seductive answer, he took control of the situation.

Derek whispered a quiet, frustrated 'screw it' and lifting his hands, he cupped Callie's face, pulling her the remaining inch or two that separated them and he kissed her... again.

Their first kiss had been surprising and delicious and a little tentative.

This kiss was … it was still delicious, but it was also demanding, and hungry.

It was the start of an exquisite, delicious, dance.

(((())))

Callie pulled the elastic out of hair, ran her fingers through her escaping tresses then quickly wrapped everything back up into a loose bun.

Reaching for the files she needed to review she started to flip through them.

She was still sorting though the papers when Yang, with her own stack of papers, settled on to a stool next to her at the nurses station.

Thunking them down next to Callie, Cristina reached across the desk for a pen. "I hate paperwork. I hate people and I hate paperwork. They barely pay me enough money to deal with people, they definitely don't pay me enough to deal with all of this paperwork!"

Callie chuckled in agreement.

Using her own pen, she made a quick note on an order and dashed off a signature. Flipping the sheet of paper over in to the 'done' pile. She began to silently read the next order.

Silently, that is, until Cristina began to crow, "Oh. My. God! You had sex! You HAD sex!"

Callie's head shot up and she looked around the hall anxiously. "What –?"

"You had sex! I can totally tell you had -". Callie slapped her hand over Yang's mouth again and glared at her slender friend.

"You can lick my hand all you want, it's staying right where it is until you promise to stop using the..." She glanced around the station again, "the 'S' word."

Yang's eyes narrowed and she glared back at Callie.

"Promise?"

Yang gave a short, frustrated nod and Callie carefully released her grip on her friend.

Yang's visible frustration gave way to a smile as she looked Callie up and down. "I'm sorry but you so totally had -" she paused as Callie leaned in towards her again. Grinning, Yang chose another 'S' word. "You so totally had Shepherd. You had a roll in the hay with Shepherd! And damn, it looks like it was a good roll. Spill! How was he? Where'd it happen? How'd it happen? Have you two declared your 'love' for one another yet? Holly Shit! Wait until I pass this in front of Grey. And Bailey! Holy shit! I knew you and Shepherd were gonna happen!"

Callie offered a weak denial. "Yang, you're seeing things that don't exist again."

"Oh, so I suppose I'm 'imagining' that hickey then?"

Callie quickly lifted her hand to her collarbone before realizing her reaction was confirmation of Yang's uncanny senses/guesswork.

"Shit."

Yang bounced happily on her seat. "So there has been action that might lead to hickeyness!"

"Will a cash payment shut you up?"

"Nope! This is far too good to sell out for." Cristina put down her pen and leaned forward. "You don't need to go in to detail – I think Shepherd sex tales just might make me puke – but give me a rough outline of what happened. And if at all possible," she smirked and held up her hands and motioned, "give me the long and short of it. And I'm assuming it was long? I mean the slender guys are always packing."

Callie trumpeted, "Jesus Yang!" But even as she exclaimed she couldn't quite bite back the smile that crept across her face. "Fine. Okay. Yes I had sex. Yes it was with Shepherd. Yes it was... pretty amazing. And no, you can't share this information with Grey, or Bailey or … anyone."

Yang pouted and opened her mouth to argue, but Callie beat her to it by adding, as she stood up, "And, Uhm, I think your theory regarding slender guys? Totally accurate."

"Holy shit." Yang watched as Callie gathered her goods. "I am so buying us a bottle of tequila and getting the rest of the story out of you." Yang reached in to her lab coat pocket and pulled out her phone. "But first," she mumbled, "I'm going to text Addison and let her know I win our little bet."

Callie escaped down the hall, a small smile playing on her lips. A smile started because of Yang's inordinate excitement over Callie's sex life. The smile continued because of her memories of last night. Her memories of being with the man who'd become her friend, her salvation, and was now, her lover.

Turning the hall corner she nearly yipped when a hand slid around her waist and she found herself being guided in to an empty office.

She 'nearly' yipped, but she didn't; instead, she smiled and turned in to the arms she'd already grown to recognize.

"Hi."

"Hi." Derek locked the door behind them and smiled when Callie raised a brow. "I missed you." He nearly groaned out loud when Callie's face lit with her beautiful smile. He reached out and pulled the stack of papers she held, out of her arms and dropped them on to the desk that stood behind her. Moving his hands to her hips, he pulled her against his frame. "Did you miss me?" He voice was low and teasing.

Callie shook her head negatively before offering, softly, "I haven't stopped thinking about you long enough to miss you."

"Did you just say something mushy to me?"

"Nope. Clearly your ears aren't working."

"Fortunately for me, I have other parts that are working." He slid his hand under the edge of her scrub top, his fingers sending electricity along her skin.

"So I see," she bit her lip as she felt his hardening length pressed against her stomach.

"Are you free for the next, fifteen, twenty minutes?"

Callie tucked her head to the side and traced the tip of her tongue along Derek's Adam's apple, smiling when he groaned and his fingers dug in to her hip.

"...make that thirty minutes?"

She chuckled, "I have a consult in, mmm forty five minutes."

"I can work with forty five minutes."

Moving both hands to the bottom of her scrubs he tugged upwards, quickly divesting her of her top.

Because he could, now, Derek let his eyes scan Callie's chest; a black bra made of lace and satin covered her breasts and he grinned.

"They're not candy, Derek."

"I think they kind of are." He lifted his hands to the bottom of the bra, pushing it up until it rested above her exposed tits. With a quick glance back up at Callie's eyes, Derek grinned and lowered his mouth to her nipples. The flat of his tongue rasped along the bottom of her left nipple as he lightly sucked against the puckered flesh. With his left hand he cupped and slowly massaged her right breast.

Callie had always been sensitive, to touch, but to Derek's touch, it was insane. He seemed to magically build a direct connection between his fingers... or his lips... or... or … his... she hissed as he used his teeth to gently pull at her nipple. And yeah, there was that connection again... her nerve endings began to dance; humming in response to his touch.

Curling her fingers though his hair – and she was fucking in love with his hair – ridiculously so – she gave a soft moan of encouragement.

Not that he really needed the encouragement, Derek had proven himself to be nothing if not dedicated when it came to paying attention to Callie.

He dropped his hands to the edge of Callie's scrub pants, tugging at the draw string and pushing her panties and pants down her hips. He smiled when he felt her copying him – undoing his pants and pressing at them until they dropped down his legs.

Shuffling closer to her he backed them up until she was settled against the desk.

"Ever done it in an office before?" Callie asked suddenly.

"Elevator, exam room, on call room..., never an office." His hand slid between her legs and Callie's voice hitched.

"So I'm kind of your first?"

He chuckled, "you do realize we had sex last night don't you? Lots of sex? In a variety of positions?"

Lifting her thigh and wrapping it around Derek's hip, Callie gave him better access to her center, and at the same time, she returned the favor; stroking her palm along his exposed length. 

Her voice dropped in to little inconsequential, nonsensical words of pleasure as two of his fingers – his so talented fingers – delved into her warmth with a steady even stroke. He ignored the way she moved her body even closer to the edge of the desk – even closer to his fingers. And he kept his motions steady, even as his own body jerked in response to Callie's ministrations.

"Callie..." he rasped.

"Hmmm?" Her voice was unnaturally high pitched as she worked to get both of them off.

"This weekend...?"

Callie breathed in as Derek curled his fingers upwards. "Hmmm mmmmm?"

"Your sister, ughh hmmm, are you going to tell her we're, ughhhh, together?"

"Hmmm?"

"Together. You and me, Jesus, officially."

Her eyes caught his and she read the question lying behind the blues. The question that was slightly bigger than the words he'd spoken.

She blinked, then closed her eyes as she felt him pull his fingers out of her and replace them with his cock – which brushed just along her entrance. "I..."

"Say yes."

"Mmmm." Her eyes blinked open as he filled her with one smooth purposeful stroke. "Yang knows." she blurted out as she dug her short nails in to his shoulders.

He smiled, "you might not want to, God, uhmm, bring up Yang while we're doing this."

"She'll tell everyone."

"Is that a bad thing?" One his hands rested on her breast, the other teased at her clit.

Callie looked up at him, her eyes unfocused with desire as he tapped at her clit with his thumb.

Derek chuckled before leaning in and touching his lips to hers again – softly. He tried one last time. "So it's me and you... officially?"

"Mmm, yes. YES! Right... yes! Derek!"

He vaguely realized he'd have to ask her the question again - at some time when he wasn't lost in her - following her down into the warm, dark, tunnel-visioned sweetness of cumming with her.


End file.
